Harry Potter and the Flame of Darkness
by Forgotten Memories
Summary: BOOK 1-4 SPOILER WARNING. Rating may go up to PG-13 later, but I don't know. I'm bad at summaries, but plz R/R and tell me if I shuold continue. My first HP fan-fic. =)
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, but I really wish I did. [Cries] Okay, 'nuffa that. By the way, MAJOR spoilers if you haven't read past book one. So watch out.  
  
Harry Potter and the Flame of Darkness  
  
1 Chapter 1  
  
Number 4, Privet Drive was a perfectly normal house, on a perfectly normal street. The people who lived in that house were perfectly normal… well, three of them were. However, Harry Potter—one of the residents of Number 4, Privet Drive—was not perfectly normal. In fact, he was perfectly abnormal.  
  
He seemed ordinary. He was a skinny boy of 15 with unruly jet-black hair. His eyes were a startling bright green color and he wore thick black glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar. It was, perhaps, this scar that made him so different. But another thing that made him different was the fact that he was a wizard, just out of his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
But he was different, even by a wizard's standards. The reason that he had the scar on his forehead was because he had survived an attack from the most evil Dark Lord of all time—Lord Voldemort. People in the wizarding world were still terrified of him, so he was usually referred to as "You- Know-Who."  
  
When Harry had been an infant, Voldemort had killed his parents and destroyed their home. Then he had turned on Harry, and a miraculous thing happened. The curse had re-bounded upon its creator, and Voldemort had fled from the scene. Harry had survived, and had defeated Voldemort.  
  
But last year, there had been a competition at Hogwarts that was called "The Triwizard Tournament." There were four people competing: Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts, and then there was Harry. In a nasty turn of events, Peter Pettigrew, one of Voldemort's servants, had killed Cedric. And then, using Harry's blood, some of the bone of Voldemort's dead father, and Pettigrew's flesh, Voldemort had returned.  
  
~  
  
As Harry reflected on last year's events, while lying in his bed in the smallest bedroom, he wished that he could bring Cedric back. He remembered seeing how sad Cho Chang had looked when she found out that Cedric was dead. Just thinking about Cho…  
  
He sat up, and got out of his bed. He looked at the clock. 8:00 AM… He stretched and yawned. He had been up late studying, as well as writing letters to his best friends, Ron and Hermione. He pulled on a pair of clean clothes, and walked down to the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia was making breakfast.  
  
She didn't say good morning, nor did she look at Harry. She never did. Harry was quite used to it by now. She was probably looking out the window, craning her long neck to spy on the neighbors—something she did quite often.  
  
Uncle Vernon and Dudley Dursley were sitting at the dining room table. Uncle Vernon was a large, beefy man who seemed to have no neck. He was reading a newspaper. Vernon and Petunia's son, Dudley, was also quite large. Harry guessed that he would crash through the floor someday.  
  
Harry took a seat at the table, and watched as Aunt Petunia served Vernon and Dudley a huge breakfast. Harry barely got more than a thin, burnt strip of bacon and a foul-smelling egg. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Not much of a breakfast, he thought. But he ate it anyway. He didn't want to starve.  
  
After "breakfast," Vernon cleared his throat as though he were about to make an important announcement. "I'm going to go and pick up Aunt Marge from the train station…"  
  
Harry's eyes went wide, and he felt his heart stop. "Aunt… Aunt Marge is coming?" he asked, dread creeping into his veins.  
  
"Yes. So we've arranged for you to go and stay with Mrs. Figg for a while… you'd better get moving, boy, and no funny stuff!" said Uncle Vernon in a nasty voice. Harry sighed, and thought of Mrs. Figg. She was an old lady who took care of Harry whenever the Dursley's went away, and she always made Harry look at pictures of her old cats.  
  
Oh well, he thought. At least now I won't have to deal with Aunt Marge. So he stood up, brought his plate to the sink, and walked out the door. I'll go for a walk before I head over to Mrs. Figgs, he decided, and walked down the street, away from Mrs. Figg's house.  
  
He saw nothing that really interested him while he was on his short walk. There were other houses on the street that were exactly like the Dursley's, with neat gardens and children playing tag in the front yard. "Boring," he said to himself.  
  
But as he turned back towards Mrs. Figg's house, walking towards it with a feeling of dread growing in his mind, he didn't realize just how interesting things were about to get. 


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I still don't own Harry Potter, so… DON'T SUE ME! Anyway…  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Harry knocked on the door. "One moment!" Mrs. Figg called, and then he heard her talking to someone else. Then the door opened. "Oh, it's you," Mrs. Figg said as though she were disappointed. "Well, come in. Close the door behind you, and lock it, too!"  
  
Harry stepped inside, and at once the horrid smell of cat fur enveloped him. He turned and shut the door, and turned the lock. He looked around the ugly, cat-infested house, not sure what to do next. Then he saw something next to the fireplace that gave him a shock… was that Floo Powder?  
  
"I've got a whole new photo album with new pictures of my cats in it," said Mrs. Figg excitedly.  
  
Harry smiled weakly. "What fun," he said quietly in a sarcastic tone.  
  
"Come on, don't just stand there like some sort of statue! And don't trip over any of the cats."  
  
Harry walked in, and was very careful not to step on the cats. It wasn't quite as easy as it sounds—there were cats everywhere. There was even a cat that had purple fur—wait a minute! Purple fur? The only place that Harry had ever seen a cat like that was at Eeylops, the pet store in Diagon Alley.  
  
"Ah, yes, interesting cat, isn't he?" said Mrs. Figg when she saw what Harry was staring at. "Found him in my front yard a while back…" she droned on and on as she pulled the album off a high shelf. Suddenly, all the books fell off the shelves.  
  
Mrs. Figg cried out and jumped backwards to avoid the falling books. "I'll never buy anything as cheap as that shelf again!" she yelled angrily, and she began to put away the books. "Well, get over here, boy! Help me put these away!"  
  
Harry walked over, and picked up a book. He glanced at the title before putting it away—"Magical Me, by Gilderoy Lockhart." His eyes got wide, and he looked down at the pile of books. "1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi," "Hogwarts: A History," "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them…" these were all books from the wizarding world!  
  
"Mrs. Figg…?" Harry stopped, unsure of what he should say.  
  
"What do you want?" she snapped irritably.  
  
Harry hesitated. "Why do you have all these spell books?"  
  
Mrs. Figg looked at the book he was holding and laughed. "I knew you'd find out sooner or later. Harry, I'm a witch, and Dumbledore has asked me to watch over you while you are in the Dursley's care. I've been protecting you all these years."  
  
~ - ~  
  
Sorry this chapter is so short… the next one will be longer, I promise =) Bye now! 


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